


Bow

by wolfgirl232



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Human/Troll intercourse - Freeform, Sad themes, Swearing, dom!Meenah, hints of domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfgirl232/pseuds/wolfgirl232
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meenah and Dirk are on Vriska's mission to find Lord English's secret weapon, but the sea can be a lonely place. Rest assured, they find a way to amuse themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bow

**Author's Note:**

> Slight warning: this gets a little sad. Worth the feels, I promise.

There she was, leaning out over the railing near the bow, braids stirring in the wind. Her stance was effortlessly cool, her cargo pants lose around her lithe form. Her shoulders slouched like there was not a single fuck to be given in the entirety of paradox space.

If only you could be that cool. Your aloof façade is sometimes a struggle to maintain, and she makes it look so easy. You could probably eat the sarcasm out of the air around her with a spoon. And wouldn't you love to.

The sky above the ship is streaked with iridescent hues of orange and pink, as if you had been dropped into a Dr. Seuss novel. With a sea goddess. Who had never given you a second thought.

Hey, what the hell? You were probably going to die soon anyway. After all, you were running out of empty space on Vriska's un-map. Might as well carpe noctum. Not to mention you were staring to have strange existential thoughts as to whether you were really you or not. With all these twice-dead ghosts and parallel versions of everyone running amok you were beginning to wonder if you were you. And even if you were not, were you still? You shake your head slightly to dispel the confusion already winding tight in your head.

 _Thunk_.

Your forearms hit the railing next to her as you, too stare out over the diluted reflection of the clouds on the water. She is so cool, she doesn't even jump, just turns her gaze on you and pulls an earbud from her frilled ear. You can hear the strains of music pumping from the tiny drivers: _Pirate skulls and bones, sticks and stones and weed and bombs..._

She looks back out over the water. "Hey."

"Hey."

Well. That went well. You aren't even coming off as emotionally invested. Perfect.

"Bored?" Was that the wrong question? It might have been. Could Meenah even get bored? Was she above that?

"As fuck." She rolls her head back and around, letting you glimpse the tendons in her neck lengthen beneath her pale gray skin. No stop that. She looks at you again, this time more intently. "I like your anime shades bro. Very #kawaii."

Are you blushing? NO. You try your best to channel Dave.

"Thanks. I like your bandana."

She smiles in response. You are the champion, it is you.

Minutes pass, her smile slowly fading until her sigh breaks the silence. "Are you afraid?" She doesn't look at you, her eyes still roving the horizon, as if waiting for something imminent.

Is she only asking so she can mock you with the truth? Or does she really want to know? Is it possible that she of all people could be scared? You really wish the questions in your head would stop assaulting you in nervous spasms.

"Honestly, yeah. Maybe I wouldn't be if I knew what it was were would be facing exactly. Or what we were even trying to accomplish. Sometimes it gets hard to remember." You rest your forehead on your arms. Please, let that not have sounded pathetic.

"Yeah." She sighs again, turning off her music and tucking her headphones away.

You know what? Fuck this. Fuck all this dancing around the fucking mulberry bush. Whirling to face her, you let the first thing that finishes processing fly from your lips.

"I want to snog you."

Her eyebrows fly up and her blank eyes widen slightly.

Silence. Shit.

Your eyes close in humiliation. Alright, time to abscond. You take one step backwards, beginning to turn arou-

Her hands fist in your shirt like she is about to steal your lunch money, and her lips collide with yours. You have no say in this kiss, and her tongue pries open your lips to stroke against your palate, its surface slightly rougher than yours. You are completely pliant against her, your shoulders sagging and your legs useless. Her teeth are in your bottom lip now and it sort of hurts and you sort of like it. You moan into her mouth and one of her hands moves to your jaw, holding you in place as she practically takes an anatomy class inside your mouth. Not a square inch goes unexplored, as you try desperately to reciprocate.

Then she's gone, and you open your eyes just as she starts pulling you across the deck by your shirt toward the nearest hatch. You stumble down the stairs behind her and through the p-ways, tripping over coils of rope that she steps gracefully over. Its like fucking swan lake in cargo pants.

A door opens and you are thrown inside, landing in the magenta fluff of a huge circular bed. At least ten thousand pillows are piled behind you, all edged in a gold to match the walls. You are only able to get a general sense of the color scheme of the room before the door slams and she is on top of you, her slight weight pressing you into the mattress.

Your glasses are unceremoniously removed, tossed onto the peak of Pillow Mountain. Somehow her shirt comes off in a tangled mess and gets thrown over her head, followed quickly by yours. She isn't wearing a bra, and as she sucks on your shoulder you cup one of her b-cup breasts tenderly, thumb skimming over the nipple and its gold bar piercing. Her fingers tangle in your hair and she _pulls_ , making you moan again like a helpless idiot. Her violence inspires you to close your mouth around her breast, your tongue teasing her erect while her back arches and her claws skim over your scalp. She kicks off her shoes and her bare feet coax you out of yours, followed by your socks.

Your dick is going to pop your jeans, you are sure of it. You know she can feel it pushing against her, and she grinds down onto you, warmth leaking through her cargos. You gasp and she does it again, harder, rubbing herself along your length.

At this point both of you are naked but for your pants and underwear, and Meenah's bling, of course. She pushes her fingers deep into your hair and pulls you up, until you are standing by the edge of the bed. She sits, legs spread wide.

"Pants." She motions with her thumb over her shoulder. You are out of them like an olympic undresser, left standing in your coral boxers. At her direction you shuck these as well, until you are stark naked, prey for her probing eyes. Your erection rests stiffly against your stomach, and you find you can't look right at her, instead studying the varying hues of the pillows.

Meenah points at the floor.

You are on your knees in an instant. She drags you toward her by the hair, pushing your face into her crotch. You can feel her, warm fabric against your lips and a salty-sea smell, faintly sweet. You mouth her through her inseam, tongue pushing insistently forward, your eyes straining toward her face, seeking approval.

One hand clamped against the back of your neck, she rocks her hips into you, biting her bottom lip.

You are burning, and before you can stop yourself you are fisting your dick, sighing against her at the welcome friction. She stops rocking and smacks your shoulder harshly. Pausing, you look up at her.

"Mine."

You are pulled forward again, and stopped just before your lips touch the wet black fabric. She holds you there while she unbuttons and unzips her pants. Her underwear are pink silk, soft against your mouth as you lap at her. You are met by her appreciative humming.

Releasing you momentarily, she stands to let her cargos drop to the floor, turning to throw them beside the bed. You sit back on your heels in appreciation. You know she has to be teasing you, because she bends slowly at the waist to slide her underwear down her long legs, stepping out of them before chucking them after her pants.

When she turns back to you her heather-gray skin flows unhindered from her taught shoulders down the slope of her breast, down across the flat planes of her abdomen to her thighs, a sea of unblemished gray. Her upper arms and wrists are still encircled with gold, the same color flashing from her many piercings. You think maybe you are having a religious experience.

With one long stride she is standing over you, thighs brushing the edges of your shoulders. Again she pulls you by the back of the neck, only this time upwards, and you can feel her wetness on your lips. You suck eagerly at what you presume to be analogous to her clit, proud of every gasp you draw from her.

You can feel her clench against your mouth as she comes, a breathy moan making your dick twitch. Your chest is splashed with fuchsia.

You let her pull you to standing, and you are immediately led to a long sideboard on one side of the room. Its edge rises just to your hip, and she pushes you down until you are bowed over it, your chest resting on the smooth wood.

Meenah stands behind you, legs apart, shins pressed to your calves. Her hands grasp both your hips and a strange sense of safety washes over you.

Something warm and very wet touches you. It snakes its way forward, the tip of it running along the underside of your member. Meenah's bulge coils itself of its own volition around your dick several times before it begins to properly writhe, stroking you in the oddest way. You think maybe you are going to pass out, it feels so overwhelmingly good.

Her hips move back and forth rhythmically, slamming into you as her bulge moves independently of her. She is still mostly silent, her breathing heavy, completely in control. Even like this, her effortless cool makes you feel like a socially inept schoolgirl. That has your breath hitching faster. Her claws dig into your hip and you moan loudly, cheek plastered to the surface below you.

Meenah bends down over you, her breasts pressed to your back. "How can you stand human female anatomy? So boring." She teases you in a whisper, one of her hands again moving into your hair to pull your head back.

"Never done that," You gasp, eyes fluttering as she fucks you. The feverish membrane wrapping your head almost makes you lose it. No, too soon. More.

"Oh?" She replies, surprised. "Well, guess I've ruined that for you. Good luck ever enjoying human copulation again."

You would have to agree, considering her slick tentabulge is now stroking faster, Meenah once more standing behind you. You cry out and press your forehead into the table, fingernails scratching at its surface. You are on your tiptoes now, and you just know that she is smirking. And that sends you over the edge.

You come with a moan and she squeezes your ass. You collapse limply as she finishes, coating your stomach and the edge of the table in genetic material.

You are again brought to your knees to lick her clean, her slimy flesh pliant and sweet on your tongue. She once more helps you to stand and wipes you off with her t-shirt.

With both of you far less sticky, she collapses back against her pillows, arms outstretched in the picture of luxury. Her lids are heavy with lust, legs open, one bent at the knee. You think this is probably what Cleopatra looked like, sans horns.

You crawl across the bed to her, and she brings your head gently to her chest, laying you down on top of her. You rest silently while your breathing slows with hers, your cheek monitoring her steadying heartbeat.

 

 

Poor kid, you think as you watch him slide back into his clothes. Doesn't even know he's a ghost, a mere shadow of the real Dirk. Alpha-timeline Dirk is far from here, god tiering across paradox space, while this recruited soldier has convinced himself of his originality. Nevertheless, you return his dorky smile and settle once more into the pillows, sprawled out in your post-coital bliss.

He slips the arms of his shades behind his ears and promises to return shortly with nourishment. You nod, eyes closed.

As his footfalls echo down the corridor you only hope you can make his last few days pleasant ones.


End file.
